


Honest Man.

by orphan_account



Series: Sing To Me Instead [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Boyfriends, Closeted Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 18:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21306506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: BadBoy!Kurt dates a closeted nerd!Blaine.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Series: Sing To Me Instead [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1441096
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	Honest Man.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off of Ben Platt's song "Honest Man", and actually a scene from a multi chapter AU story I wrote but never ended up posting. I dug it out of the depths of my computer and decided it fit with my "Sing To Me Instead" verse. I rearranged and modified some parts so that it (hopefully?) makes sense out of context. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated!

Kurt laces up his black boots before he rises to his feet, runs a comb through his pink striped coif and studies his reflection carefully in the small square mirror on the back of his locker door.

He steals a glance past the metal frame, across the locker room, just quick enough to find him. 

He’s there, a towel slung low around his hips and his hair an explosion of unruly curls, his eyes burning bright and golden when they look up to find Kurt at the exact same instant.

They both bite back smiles, cheeks flushing pink and eyelids fluttering away quickly. Blaine ducks his head and disappears behind the open door of his locker, fiddling with his clothes. Kurt stares back into the cave of his own locker and closes his eyes, swallows, wills himself to breathe.

Inhale. Exhale. His body _aches_ for him.

He’s done changing but he hangs around, pretends to be intrigued by something in his locker because he can’t force himself to leave, not yet. There’s so few moments throughout the day when he can be this near to him.

He’s careful to never let his gaze linger, but he can’t resist the pull towards him, eyes raking down the strong, tapering line of his compact torso, the pulling v of his slender waist, his tanned, muscled back dripping with fresh droplets from the showers. Blaine bends down to grab something out of his backpack, the prominent shape of his thighs curving into his ass becoming distinct against the thin canvas of the white towel.

Kurt flushes. He knows Blaine’s aware of him watching.

He can’t stay forever though.

“Ready, dude?” Sam appears by his side, a faint waft of smoke drifting into Kurt’s nostrils that would undoubtedly be stronger if he weren’t practically immune to the stench. Kurt hums, slips his arms into the cool leather of his black jacket and slams his locker shut.

“Let’s go.”

Walking past him is inevitable. His locker is the last one on the first row, just across the aisle from the exit. Kurt’s nails dig harder into the tender skin of his palms the closer they get, desire and trembling want and consuming _need_ coursing through him in a throbbing flow.

Blaine pretends not to notice them, his back turned and his shoulders drawn small until Sam shoves at him roughly as they pass, slamming him against the jagged metal frame of his locker. Kurt bites the flesh of his inner cheek so hard he tastes the tang of bitter blood on his tongue.

“Those were some nice moves you had during gym today, Anderson,” Sam snickers. Blaine trains his gaze on the floor, chest heaving and cheeks blushing a shade of red that twists Kurt’s stomach with nausea, clenches his insides.

“Leave him alone,” he barks at Sam, his voice dangerously low. 

Blaine glances up at him in surprise, a frantic look on his face that borders on pleading and Kurt curses at himself internally when he senses the panic emanating off of him.

He’s almost slipped up. _Again_. 

He can’t help it. 

Seeing Blaine hurt ignites some animalistic fire deep in Kurt’s core, a raging protective instinct that grips him, overrides Kurt’s brain and his ability to think clearly. It’s an instinct that’s becoming harder to fight off each day.

Sam’s eyebrows furrow in puzzled confusion. “What the hell, man?”

Kurt thinks quickly, raises his chin and pulls his lips into a smirk, saves himself, saves _them_. 

“He’s not worth our fucking time,” he sneers. 

Sam’s laugh echoes off the tiled floor. Kurt’s heart flares sharp with pain. Blaine keeps his face neutral, void of emotion, but Kurt knows him. He doesn’t have to look closely to know there’s a layer of tears welling behind his eyes. He knows how deeply those words hurt.

He follows Sam out of the locker room, his heart clenched tightly and his feet dragging heavy. 

He doesn’t look back. The sight of Blaine would shatter him to pieces.

…..

When Blaine rings the doorbell that night, Kurt’s answer is immediate. He throws open the door frantically, grabs an urgent fistful of his polo shirt and drags him inside, crashing their lips together roughly.

Blaine whines into his mouth. His kisses are needy, his lips wet and hot and melting under Kurt’s, who forces his tongue inside and licks over every inch of his mouth. He can’t get enough of him, of his taste, of his beauty, drunk and intoxicated and clinging to Blaine like a lifeline, like he needs his body fused with every inch of Blaine’s in order to survive.

Blaine goes willingly when Kurt presses him into the wall, moves off his kiss swollen lips to suck wetly down the sweet smelling skin of his neck. His fingertips roam restlessly across Kurt’s back, tickling down his arms and gripping tight to his shoulders, soft pants escaping his lips and sounding on the air.

He’s tense. Kurt can feel it, can feel how desperately Blaine needs him, too.

“Your Dad?” Blaine breathes out heavily, voice scratchy. Kurt kisses fast back up his neck, lips mouthing across his jaw until he’s pulling Blaine’s plush bottom lip between his teeth.

“Gone,” he breathes against Blaine’s lips, fitting their lips together again and angling Blaine’s head back to kiss him perfectly, deeply, Blaine’s mouth parting under his and their tongues swirling together.

“Can we go to your room?” Blaine gasps. Kurt nods. He wants, _needs_, him there more than anything he’s ever wanted before.

Blaine’s kisses turn pained as they stumble up the stairs, fingers scrambling to unbutton belts and untuck shirts. His lips are forceful, aggressive, _aching_, and his body trembles. He’s hurt. He’s afraid. Memories of earlier in the day come flooding back to Kurt, painfully vivid, seizing his heart.

They’ve just made it past Kurt’s door when Kurt pulls off Blaine’s lips, clasps his fingers around Blaine’s wrists and steadies him.

“Sweetheart,” he tries to calm him but Blaine just gives a short shake of his head, looking close to tears, fidgeting out of Kurt’s hold and gripping Kurt’s face, trying to push their lips together again.

“Blaine,” Kurt holds him back by his shoulders. “Baby, stop.”

Blaine goes still at that, panting heavily, a curl falling across his forehead and his hazel eyes shimmering as he stares brokenly up at Kurt. Kurt pulls him flush against his body and Blaine crumples, buries his face into Kurt’s neck and wraps his arms tightly around Kurt’s waist, like he’s afraid Kurt will disappear if he lets go.

Kurt runs a hand through his tangled curls. “I can’t do this anymore, Blaine,” he chokes out.

Blaine lets go, steps back, his eyes wide and wet with tears. “W-what do you mean? Can’t do what anymore?”

“I’m sick of hiding,” Kurt whispers, feeling tears spring to his own eyes. He steps closer to Blaine, brushes a thumb gently across his cheek. “I love you, Blaine. _Fuck_\- I love you more than anyone in this entire goddamn world. I can’t keep hiding. I can’t keep being mean to you. I don’t care who knows that we’re together. I’m _proud_ of you. I want people to know that I’m in love with you.”

Blaine’s eyelids flutter closed, his throat bobbing heavily. “Kurt...”

“Do you know how fucking hard it is not to beat him up every time he lays hand on you? How sick to my stomach I feel watching the way you just sit there and take it, what he says, what I say-”

“Kurt,” Blaine sobs out again. A tear falls fast down his cheek. Kurt’s heart skips, pulsing. “I can’t come out.”

“And I can’t keep hurting you!” Kurt cries, frustration and sadness bubbling over in his chest. There’s an unplaced anger at the world racing through him, for being so brutally cruel, terrifying them into hiding under some false, bigoted pretense that their love is unorthodox, unjustly preventing him from proudly being with the person he loves.

“You’re not hurting me. I know you didn’t mean what you said.”

“Bullshit,” Kurt shakes his head, runs a stressed hand through his hair. A rage of self disgust pools low in his stomach. “You knew I didn’t mean it but it still hurt. Don’t lie to me.”

Blaine’s face crumples, his pink lips bowing. He sits down on the edge of Kurt’s bed and Kurt follows him, settles on his knees in front of Blaine and takes his hand. He hates that Blaine’s hurting, that _he_ made him feel like this.

“Yeah, it hurt,” Blaine sniffles and Kurt squeezes his hand. “But I can handle it. I can take it if it means getting to be with you like this.”

Kurt drops his head against Blaine’s knees. “I want to be with you like this _all_ the time. I want to hold your hand in the hallway and walk you to class, to take you on dates and dance with you at prom.”

“I can’t, Kurt,” Blaine says quietly, his voice strained. Kurt’s heart aches heavily, yearning so desperately for Blaine to be happy, for him to be _free_. He can’t force Blaine out of the closet, he doesn’t _want_ to force him out of the closet, he just wants to help him take the jump, hold him close and support him and love him, to show him he deserves so much better.

“I’ll help you. I’ll stand by your side, we can tell your parents together-”

“No,” Blaine yanks his hand out of Kurt’s, rising from the bed and pacing around the room. “My parents would kick me out, Kurt. You know that. I don’t have the accepting, loving Father you have. They’d be revolted by me, they’d cut me off- I’m already never enough for them, I can’t disappoint them further-”

Kurt _growls_ a little at Blaine’s words. He’s never met Blaine’s parents, but he has a few choice words he has no problem yelling directly in their face if he ever does.

“And at school,” Blaine continues rambling, tightens his arms self consciously around his stomach. “I’m a freak enough as it is, it would be torture if everyone knew I was gay. The teasing-”

“Everyone knows I’m gay,” Kurt points out.

“Yeah, but you’re _Kurt Hummel_! You’re popular a-and unbelievably sexy and _cool_ and funny and everyone loves you! And me, I’m just-” Blaine’s voice breaks as he wipes a tear away and stares down at himself as if he’s some horribly disfigured creature.

“You’re what?” Kurt asks softly, gazes up at Blaine who looks stunningly beautiful above him, olive skin and lush lips and the slight indent in his nose that Kurt adores.

“I’m just me.”

The despairing tone in his voice spears Kurt’s heart. He stands, walks towards Blaine and holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

Blaine wipes another tear from his cheek and takes Kurt’s hand, following him as Kurt leads him toward his bed. When the backs of his knees hit the mattress, Kurt stops, pulls Blaine against him.

“You are beautiful,” he says quietly, but firmly, lifting Blaine’s chin with a finger when Blaine’s gaze drops. “Look at me. You are _so_ beautiful. I am the luckiest guy in the world to be with you.”

Blaine gives a small smile, his eyes softening in a mix of love and heartache.

“You’re intelligent, so fucking smart that I can’t even wrap my head around it sometimes. You know more about chemistry and physics and all that shit than any normal person should,” Blaine laughs at that and Kurt smiles reflexively, sweeps his thumb gently along Blaine’s jawline. “_That_, to me, is cool. You’re polite, and respectful, and so unbelievably kind and generous, and _that_, to me, is sexy.”

He slides an arm around Blaine’s waist, holds him close.

“When you tell me those stupid puns about events in history I’m too dumb to understand, _that_, to me, is funny. I don’t care if not everyone loves you. _I_ love you. Okay?”

Blaine nods quietly.

“Okay?” Kurt says again, dips his head to catch his honey dripping eyes.

“Okay,” Blaine replies, nods firmer, raises his arms to drape them around Kurt’s neck and hug him tightly. Kurt inhales his frizzy hair, the scent so distinctly Blaine, sweet and masculine and undefinably heartwarming, calming Kurt’s racing heart. “So you’re not breaking up with me?”

“What?” Kurt pulls back. Blaine’s eyes are wide, open and vulnerable. “Baby, what? No, Blaine, no. I’m not breaking up with you.”

“You said you couldn’t do this anymore,” Blaine says quietly and Kurt grimaces. He did say that, but _fuck_, it’s not what he meant, his words and his heart tangled in an intricate mess of emotions that don’t seem to translate to any string of comprehensible words.

Kurt cups his jaw and brings their lips together gently, sighs into the kiss when Blaine presses his lips back sweetly, lovingly. He turns them around and nudges Blaine gently down onto his bed, crawls after him when Blaine settles against the pillows, resting on top of him and kissing him slowly.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he swirls his fingers through Blaine’s hair, watches the way Blaine’s eyelashes flutter long and delicate against his cheek. “If it were up to me, I’d shout it to the entire world how much I love you. But I’m not upset that you’re not ready to come out. I’m sorry if I made it seem that way.”

Blaine traces the hem of Kurt’s t shirt. “It’s okay.”

“I’m still proud of you. I just get frustrated because you deserve so much _better_,” Kurt’s throat closes a little over the words, overwhelmed with how deeply he cares for the boy beneath him, the one who stares up at him with compassionate eyes, caring and considerate of Kurt’s feelings and concerns at a time when he has every right to only focus on himself. “If this is how it has to be right now, that’s okay. I’m here for you till you're ready.”

Blaine quirks an eyebrow. “What about after?”

“After,” Kurt smiles, craning his neck down to peck at Blaine’s lips. “I’ll be trying my damnedest to hang on to you, fighting off all those love crazed boys who will come flocking once they know you’re available.”

Blaine rolls his eyes affectionately, cuts Kurt out of his teasing haze with a simple line that stills his heart. “I don’t want anyone other than you.”

Kurt kisses the corner of his lips. “Good. I don’t want anyone other than you.”

There’s a comfortable beat of silence where they simply gaze at each other, lost in the infinite pool of the other’s eyes, until Kurt says, “But we have to change some things.”

Blaine shifts nervously underneath him. “Okay. Like?”

“If Sam pushes you again, I’m calling him out on it.”

Blaine looks like he wants to protest, so Kurt shakes his head. He’s already decided this and he isn’t willing to compromise. “If _anyone_ picks on you, and I’m there to see it, I won’t hesitate to stop them.”

“But-”

“I don’t care if it looks suspicious. I’m not going to watch you get hurt.”

Blaine watches him for a moment, worrying his bottom lip between between his teeth until something behind his eyes clears and his face relaxes.

He nods. “Okay. What else?”

“I know I’m not… the nicest person,” Kurt looks away sheepishly and Blaine directs his gaze back to him, fingers holding his jaw carefully and a look in his eyes that tells Kurt to be kinder to himself, that Blaine loves him for who he is and who he's trying to become for Blaine. “But I can’t be mean to you. I _won’t_ be mean to you, not to uphold some reputation, or to make people think nothing is going on between us. You’ll come out on your own terms and that’s fine baby, but I won’t say something horrible to cover up accidentally hinting at us.”

Kurt waits for hesitation, for Blaine to object, but he doesn’t. He nods again, a small, gorgeous smile tugging at his lips. “Deal. Sam’s too stupid to pick up on your hints anyway.”

Kurt laughs loudly, throwing his head back. When he looks back down at Blaine, there’s a pleased look on his face, a smug smile resting on his lips that makes him look positively adorable.

“I love you,” he says softly, his gaze tender.

“I love you, too,” Kurt tells him, his heart beating fast in flutters that make his body feel restless with emotion, with overwhelming love and fondness, until he has no other outlet to process the intense feelings than leaning down and kissing Blaine.

The kiss starts out sweet but grows heated quickly, lips moving together swiftly as their hands caress across heated skin, dip beneath waistbands and sneak under shirts, roaming to touch smooth skin. Kurt runs his fingertips along the inner seam of Blaine’s thigh, feels the strong muscles beneath them.

“Let me show you?” he gasps out, kissing down Blaine’s neck. “Let me show you how much I love you?”

“Please,” Blaine moans. “Can we- can we turn out the lights? I want to just… feel you.” He looks somewhat embarrassed by his request, so Kurt kisses his cheek reassuringly.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

In the silvery light of the moon streaming through Kurt’s bedroom window, Kurt undresses Blaine slowly, kisses down his chest and takes his long cock into the sinking heat of his mouth, nuzzling kisses up the shaft and swirling his tongue around the bulbous head until Blaine’s arching up, digging his fingernails into Kurt’s shoulder and crying out softly as he falls apart. Kurt strokes him through it, swallows the taste of him until he’s writhing in over sensitivity, and then he kisses back up his beautiful body and presses his tongue into Blaine’s mouth, letting him taste himself.

He’s still kissing into Blaine’s mouth when Blaine curls his fingers around his cock, stroking him at a balanced, slow pace that unfurls Kurt’s orgasm from deep within his stomach, curling his toes as the pleasure swamps over him gradually, tenderly, in crashing waves that leave him breathless as he releases into Blaine’s hand.

The still, serene silence of the night is their symphony, the music that accompanies their hidden love, a world grown organically in shadows, sacred and preserved from the scornful taint of others.

He wouldn’t change it for anything, the feeling of wrapping Blaine’s sweaty, flushed body in his arms, curling his body to fit against his as he holds him securely against his chest. He feels the way Blaine’s breathing evens out under the wide splay of his palms, one hand curled protectively around Kurt’s wrist.

He loves the boy in his arms beyond anything he’s able to comprehend, and he’ll love him in whatever state of comfort he is with his sexuality, behind closed doors in the bountiful world of them, or in front of thousands of watching eyes.

He’s not ashamed of them. And he’ll wait for Blaine. However long it takes.

He falls asleep to vibrant dreams of the day they can proclaim their love loudly, radiant images against the darkness of the night, holding Blaine closer and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his neck.


End file.
